


Jest Desserts

by cardinalrachelieu



Category: Heartless - Marissa Meyer
Genre: AVERT YOUR EYES CHILDREN, Canon Compliant, Cunnilingus, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 14:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13215384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalrachelieu/pseuds/cardinalrachelieu
Summary: THE CHAPTER 37 WE DESERVEDin which jest gets dessert >:)





	Jest Desserts

**Author's Note:**

> this was one of those 'write the porn u want 2 see in the world' situations. marissa robbed us and i'm bitter, okay?
> 
> @marissa: meet me in the pit (jk ur amazing but also i kNOW U WROTE SOMETHING LIKE THIS DON'T PRETEND U DIDN'T)

Deft fingers ghosted over freshly healed skin, and a shiver ran up Catherine’s leg. 

“Jest…”

Memories from a half-forgotten dream clung to her, sweeter than treacle and just as sticky. Lips pressing against her throat, hands getting lost in the folds of her skirts—only this time the dream didn’t end. This time the grass beneath her spine and the yellow-eyed joker didn’t fade away.

Cath sighed something in the shape of his name.

Jest settled his weight between her legs and dragged the hem of her gown up, up, up. “Something I can help you with, my lady?” he said, voice low and casual, like he was offering her a hand as she stepped into a carriage—only there was no carriage and his hand was tracing a molten path up her inner thigh.

Leather and velvet trimmings of his motley crumpled in Catherine’s grip as a moan worked its way free of her throat.

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific,” he whispered, coaxing her shoulder free of the green, satiny dress so he could press a kiss to the flushed skin there. 

“I want…” Warmth flooded her core, pooled in her belly. “I want…” Her mind could no more hold onto a thought than a sieve could hold onto water. Every time she tried to focus, Jest’s cursed lips found her skin, and she would lose herself to the impossibleness of it all.

This place. This moment. This beginning.

His mouth set fire to her jaw, her neck, the space between her breasts, and for once she was glad her mother had insisted on a gown with a low neckline. 

“Name it, and it’s yours,” he murmured. So calm, so unaffected.

At least he sounded that way until Cath fluttered her lashes and fixed her gaze on him. Amber-gold eyes framed by dark curls, intense and desperate in a way she’d never seen, not even in the moments before a tower of rock exploded around them and Jest had brought them to this glen.

Cath’s breath hitched, and she felt like she might faint.

A crease formed on Jest’s brow, and his hand abandoned its journey up her thighs, instead traveling over her skirts and bodice, around her ribs, until his fingers tickled her spine.

The pressure around Cath’s waist eased, and breath spilled into her lungs.

A devious smirk tugged at a corner of Jest’s mouth as he brought his hand up, laces dangling from his fingertips.

Cath scowled.

He lazily wound the length of cording around his fingers and cocked an eyebrow. “Shall I put it back?”

So playful, her joker was. But underneath the teasing, Cath could see it—the anxiety, the fear that she would reject him. There was a stiffness to his shoulders as he held himself still above her, put distance between them despite the closeness of their bodies. 

Catherine tangled her fingers in his unruly mop, made sure he was looking at her as she said, “Don’t you dare,” and dragged his mouth back to hers. 

All the desserts in all the bakeries in all of Hearts paled in comparison to his kiss. He tasted like honey and lemons, a perfect balance between sweet and tart—and she couldn’t get enough. 

Much like the rest of him, Cath decided, Jest’s hands were magical—and infuriating. Clever fingers worked their way under her skirts and up her legs, always managing to skip over the spot she yearned for his touch the most.

Cath pressed her eyes shut, tried to stop her body convulsing. “Do you intend”—another tremor—“to tease me all day?”

“Hardly,” he said, breath hot against her ear. “One day isn’t nearly enough time.”

A coal burned in the pit of her stomach, dense and hot, and each word, each touch from Jest was like the press of a bellows. The thing about fires, though, is they always craved more fuel.

Cath rolled her hips and felt deep, unending satisfaction when Jest’s whole body stuttered, fingers going still as his muscles went taut and loose then taut again—a battle between her touch, his will, and gravity.

“Catherine…” Yellow eyes found her through a curtain of dark hair, a raw and pleading gaze to match the rasp in his voice.

She let her hands slip to his chest, watched as he blinked slowly in time with her touch. “It is impolite to keep a lady waiting,” she whispered.

Jest’s eyes glinted and a mischievous grin carved dimples into his cheeks. “In that case,  _ my lady _ ,” he said, and crawled his way down Cath’s body, until his shoulders were nestled between her thighs, “allow me to beg your pardon.”

She didn’t lift a finger to stop him when he slowly, torturously pulled back her skirts, golden gaze never leaving her own. Then, with a wink, his head disappeared under an ocean of petticoats. Before her nerves could free her sanity from the cage she’d thrown it into, delicious, rolling heat blossomed in her core, and she wasn’t quick enough to stifle the moan that escaped her lips.

Jest had her panting in the span of three breaths. Wet, hot, languid swipes of his tongue set her quivering, toes curling as pleasure jolted through her limbs. Nights spent alone in her bedroom, with nothing but her own fingers and forbidden dreams, paled in comparison to what she felt now, with Jest.

Heated palms anchored her to the ground as a wicked mouth worked her into a gasping, writhing mess. And just when she thought she would shatter, he pressed into her with one finger, then two—long, slow strokes—and she tumbled into a sea of shimmering black with his name on her lips.

Slowly, the world came back into focus, and at the center of it was Jest, sporting a prideful, lopsided grin. He dropped a kiss on the inside of her thigh.

Cath shivered.

“If you are at all displeased with my apology”—another kiss, slightly higher than the last—“I would be happy to try again.” Amber eyes flicked up to meet hers, gaze filled with arrogance, and rightly so.

Catherine reached for him, and he took pity on her, leaning forward until she could grab onto something solid of his; a collar, a shoulder, an arm. “You’ll do no such thing,” she said, smile beginning to make her cheeks hurt.

His brows pinched together as he settled himself on top of her, chest pressing against hers with each inhale. “You would deny me”—he kissed her brow—“the pleasure”—her nose—“of supplicating myself”—her jaw—“at the altar”—the corner of her mouth—“of your body?”

Catherine nearly forgot to breathe.

Jest smoothed the pad of his thumb over her cheek, yellow eyes studying the lines of her face before he leaned down and kissed her properly, slow and deep, like they had all the time in the world.

“I would ask,” Cath said when she managed to steal a breath, “that you save your energy for  _ other _ things.”

His gaze snapped to hers, and those golden eyes sparked with fire. “I can assure you, my lady”—he ground his hips against hers, and Cath’s eyes fluttered—“I have enough energy for both.”

A whimper danced across Catherine’s lips—which did nothing to discourage her joker’s devilish smirk.

“However,” he said, and he was on his feet before Cath even registered his absence, “I’m sure by this point a number of people are terribly concerned about you.” He offered her a hand, and she took it, let herself be pulled up.

Catherine glanced down. Her gown was utterly ruined, mostly because of the encounter with the Jabberwock but also because Jest had put more wrinkles in it than even the hottest iron would be able to smooth. Joy pinched the edges of her face.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting,” he finished, a small twitch of his mouth betraying his otherwise neutral expression.

The smile melted from Catherine’s face. He was right. They had already stayed in the glen too long. It would be selfish to stay any longer.

Jest slipped his hand into hers and tugged them forward, toward the well they’d abandoned when privacy became more important than magical treacle. Gracefully, he gathered up his hat and gloves.

“Jest—”

He turned, eyes soft, and used his free-hand to tuck a stray curl behind Catherine’s ear. So gentle, so kind.

Cath took a deep breath. “No matter what happens, you have my heart.”

He sighed, caught, Catherine imagined, between stretching the moment into a lifetime and fulfilling his duty. “And you have mine,” he finally whispered, leaning in until their foreheads touched.

Catherine closed her eyes. It would be so easy to stay, to forget the world above, to cross into Chess, to—

“Now,” he said, a hollow brightness in his tone as he swept her up into his arms, “would you be so kind as to keep this safe while we travel?” He nodded to the bell-tipped had that was resting on her lap.

She curled her fingers around it.

“I would very much hate to lose it,” he added, almost like he was sharing a secret.

Cath was grateful. Grateful that he’d made the decision for them. Because if it had been left to her, she wasn’t sure she would’ve chosen to go back.

The ground rumbled underneath Jest, and he set his sights on the strange-colored sky. Cath tucked her head to his chest and tightened her grip on the impossible hat.

Just before glen fell away, red-gold light swallowed by grey stone walls, a trio of youthful voices sang after them, “Soon, soon, soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not 100% satisfied with the dialogue/their characterization, but i also didn't want to spend another few days perfecting it. so.
> 
> anyway, i hope you liked it!
> 
> come yell at me on [tumblr](http://yalenayardeen.tumblr.com)


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